Chapter Twenty-Nine: A Solitary Life

At three in the afternoon, Zhou Miao and Zuo Qiu disembarked from their flight, where her assistant, Yang Yan, had been waiting for quite some time inside the airport.

Once in the car, Zhou Miao finally exhaled a breath of relief as she felt the coolness of the air conditioning. Beijing was far hotter than Suzhou.

Driving, Yang Yan turned around and greeted Zhou Miao, “The dormitory is ready. The cleaning lady has tidied everything, and all the essentials are brand new. If you need anything else, just let me know.”

“Thank you. Sorry to trouble you.”

Zuo Qiu rubbed her aching ankle; wearing high heels throughout the journey had been exhausting. She considered slipping off her shoes to relax but remembered Zhou Miao was still present and quickly dismissed the thought.

“Rest well today and get familiar with the area. Tomorrow morning I’ll come and take you to visit Professor Lin,” Yang Yan said.

Zhou Miao nodded. There was no rush; she cradled her space capsule cat carrier, inside which Naitang looked rather nervous.

One had to admit, the capital was indeed the capital—even the traffic jams were several times worse than Suzhou. By the time they reached the dormitory, it was nearly five. Zhou Miao pushed open the door to find a typical, tastefully furnished apartment. Not large—just thirty or forty square meters—but more than enough for one person and a cat.

She let Naitang out to explore, then began unpacking. It was almost amusing—despite having lived a combined forty-plus years across two lifetimes, this was her first time living alone.

Pulling back the curtains, Zhou Miao gazed out at the capital in the evening: a sea of traffic and dazzling lights, the city thriving and vibrant.

Around eight or nine, Zhou Miao went downstairs to the dining hall. Meals were complimentary with a cafeteria card, which Yang Yan had thoughtfully left with her.

At this hour, the place was nearly empty—only two other young women besides Zhou Miao. Her presence immediately caught their attention.

One of them, wearing pink and her hair in a bun, looked up and found Zhou Miao familiar. She stared, eyes growing wide, and nudged the girl in yellow devouring her meal.

“Xiao Li, look!”

“What? I’m eating—why the urgency?”

Pink Bun pointed toward Zhou Miao, who sat eating quietly in the corner. “Isn’t that Zhou Miao?”

“Zhou Miao? The one who sings ‘Rice Fragrance’?” Xiao Li hurriedly put on her glasses for a better look. “It really is him! What’s he doing here? Isn’t this our company’s staff cafeteria?”

“Could he have signed with Rainbow?” Pink Bun speculated.

Xiao Li scoffed. “Impossible. The whole internet says the industry giants are fighting over him—how would our company get a chance?”

“Let’s go ask him and find out,” Pink Bun urged.

“Let’s go!”

Zhou Miao had ordered a rice bowl—the taste was decent. But before she’d eaten much, two vibrant young women sat down across from her. Glancing at the empty tables around, Zhou Miao asked, “Can I help you?”

“Are you Zhou Miao?” Pink Bun inquired.

Zhou Miao nodded. He was already under contract; there was no need to hide.

Pink Bun grabbed Xiao Li’s hand excitedly. “It really is Zhou Miao!”

Xiao Li, still puzzled, asked, “Why are you eating here? This is Rainbow Records’ staff cafeteria. Do you have some cooperation with our company?”

Zhou Miao pulled out his meal card, which bore his name and photo. “I’ve signed with Rainbow. Isn’t it normal for me to eat here?”

Both girls were stunned by the photo on the card. What kind of offer had Rainbow made to entice Zhou Miao to give up resources from the industry giants?

“Are you two Rainbow trainees?” Zhou Miao asked curiously. Both had good looks and seemed a couple of years older than him.

“Yes, we’ve been training under Rainbow for two and a half years. I’m Zhao Li.”

“I’m Li Qin.”

“Two and a half years? That’s not short. When will you debut?” Zhou Miao, once an ordinary person himself, was genuinely curious.

At the mention of debuting, both girls looked troubled. “Don’t mention it. The company planned for us to debut as a duo, but none of the songs written by the producers satisfied Sister Zuo Qiu, so it’s been delayed.”

Li Qin propped her chin, frowning. “What if we never get the right song…”

Zhao Li glanced at Zhou Miao, who was quietly eating, and suddenly her eyes brightened. Wasn’t this a case of a pillow delivered to a sleepy head? But then she deflated—why would a stranger write a song for them? She didn’t dare ask.

“Ah…” They sighed together.

Despite their shared desire, neither dared voice it, and Zhou Miao, for his part, didn’t lose his head over pretty faces and offer to help. They were strangers, after all.

The songs from his former life held special meaning for Zhou Miao. He wouldn’t give them away lightly. Even if he wrote for others one day, their vocal ability, character, and reputation had to be beyond reproach—otherwise, he’d feel it was an insult to the singers of his previous life.

His determination to apply to the Central Conservatory’s Composition Department was the same. He didn’t want to be a simple copyist. Some songs, though old, had wonderful melodies—just a little adaptation and new arrangement could make them shine anew.

He also hoped to improve upon these classics, making them richer and more flavorful.

Back in the dormitory, Li Qin nudged Zhao Li. “Do you think Zhou Miao might write a song for us?”

“Forget it. Who are you to him? Why would he write for you—for your big chest?” Zhao Li pinched her out of jealousy.

“Ow! You wicked thing!” Li Qin’s face paled from pain and she bared her teeth, ready to retaliate.

After a bout of playful wrestling, both collapsed on their beds, flushed and out of breath. Still, Li Qin was unwilling to give up. “I think we have to try, no matter what. This is our debut—if we got a song half as good as ‘Rice Fragrance’, we’d definitely be famous!”

Zhao Li was tempted. “How? Just beg him? Or will you try to charm him?”

Li Qin shook her head. “That won’t work. We, two beauties, sat across from him and he didn’t even blink—he was more interested in his food.”

“And with Zhou Miao’s looks, do you really think he’s lacking in admirers? No, we have to find what he really likes.”

Li Qin’s analysis was so convincing that Zhao Li couldn’t help but agree. “So what does he like?”

Li Qin pulled out her phone. “Wait, let me check.”

Zhao Li rolled her eyes. She couldn’t believe she was putting her hopes in this airheaded woman.

“Got it!” Li Qin exclaimed, fingers scrolling rapidly. “Let’s see what this guy likes.”

“He likes spicy food? Should we invite him to hotpot? But we’re not close—he’d probably refuse… He likes figurines—damn, can’t he have a cheaper hobby? The two of us, broke as can be, would have to sell a kidney to buy those toys.”

Suddenly, Li Qin’s eyes lit up. “Hey, this could work!”